


Funny Plastic Tree

by vici_diem



Category: Constantine x reader, DC Comics, Hellblazer, cheryl masters - Fandom, comic book - Fandom, comics - Fandom, john constantine - Fandom, tony masters - Fandom
Genre: DC comics - Freeform, F/M, Hellblazer - Freeform, hellblazer series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 07:46:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10635426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vici_diem/pseuds/vici_diem
Summary: Just an imaginary scene of how John and you met, from Cheryl's wedding to Tony Masters. This is not related to the comic at all, nothing except for the characters.





	

“You ready yet?” I shouted from the living room, as I fastened my black stilettos. 

“Give me a few more minutes, sorry.” Claire, my roommate, replied, probably doing some last touch-ups to her makeup. I rolled my eyes and took my phone out of my silver clutch to check the time. 

“Hurry up, we’re gonna be late!” I said, as she rushed out of her room, giving her dress a little twirl in front of me. “Well?” she asked, her face unsure of the look she was going for, which was stupid. Claire looked amazing in almost everything, even a brown sack. 

She was wearing her strapless midnight blue dress, that emphasises her hourglass figure. Her jet black hair is cascaded to the side, exposing one side of her neck. The dress had a glittering silver silk sash on her waist that matches her necklace. She did not only look radiant, but she looked like a goddess. 

I shook my head from side to side, smiling as I told her, “You look amazing, get over it. We’re going to be late.” 

“You looked amazing, as well.” she commented, as she bend down to put her shoes on and I call the cab. 

Once we walked into the place, it was unlike anything we’ve ever seen. The wedding looks like it was as if something out of a romantic film. A vase of elaborate white flowers decorating the centre of the table and champagne glasses. Then more flowers on the side, as if it was trying to convince the guests of the beauty of the place. 

The tall Victorian windows, overlooking the vast green garden, where fairy lights are hung to light up the night sky. A jazz band was playing outside, giving it a more romantic feel. Some people were dancing to the music, while some were chattering in the background. But so far, no one seemed to be sitting. 

And in the middle of the dance floor, the bride and groom can be seen dancing to one of Sinatra’s songs, smiling at each other, looking so much in love, my stomach was starting to churn. Claire must’ve seen my face, because she laughed and claimed that she was going to look for more champagne to get this night over with. I nodded and asked her to bring me one, or two glasses, if necessary. 

So there I was, standing awkwardly in the corner, between the room with the tables and outside, with the dance floors. Romance was never my strongest suit, but deep down, I’ve always mourned for the idea of me, not being able to experience a lifetime with someone who would accept me as fully as Tony accepted Cheryl. The way they were looking at each other, it was as if the world only made sense if they were together. 

Tony had always been a friend of Claire and I, ever since we were in university. And never have I seen fall in love with a woman, until he met Cheryl. Unfortunately, shortly after they were dating, Claire and I fell out of touch with him, as we were busy trying to make it in London. If it wasn’t for his wedding invitation, mysteriously arriving in our mailbox, we probably wouldn’t see each other again, given our schedules. We even missed the initial ceremony at Church because of that. 

“Hey.” a voice called, jolting me out of my thoughts and I turned to the direction. A stranger with blonde hair and deep blue eyes was staring at me, smiling. 

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I didn’t know you.” I said, turning back to watching the couple dance. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you either. Nor do I see you in the ceremony earlier this morning. So who are you? Tony’s ex?”

“Friend. I was his friend, from uni.” I replied, as he nodded in acknowledgment, while I asked, “What about you?”

“Cheryl’s my sister.”

“Ah, that explains it.” 

“Explains, what?”

“Why you were scowling at her husband.”

“It’s the music. I’m always skittish about jazz. I prefer something more uplifting, to suit the sad mood for us sad, lonely people sulking in the corner.”

I turned to him, my tone turning into something more accusatory as I told him, “I’m not sad, nor was I sulking. I, however, actually love jazz.”, emphasising on the ‘love’. 

“Yeah, right. If you love it so much, why don’t you dance to it?” he offered, pretending to be a gentleman and all, with the bowing and one hand extended to me. I scoffed, replying, “Challenge accepted.”, and walked with him to the dance floor, trying to ignore the warnings in my head. Yes, I was dancing with a handsome stranger, and I will pretend as if I knew how to slow dance. 

And as if fate was playing tricks on us, the band decided to play ‘My Funny Valentine’ by Frank Sinatra and I nearly bolted out of the dance floor. Not only will the dance be slow, his hands would be all over me, holding me against him. I hate it, I hate the intimacy when we were just strangers. Hell, I didn’t even know his name. 

“I’m John, by the way.” he said, as if he was reading my mind, pulling me closer to him with his hand, while the other encircled my waist in a smooth motion. It was as if he had done this a million times. Don’t tell me, he’s a dancer.

“I’m Chris. Just Chris.”

“Isn’t that a guy’s name?” he joked, whispering it in my ear, sending tingles through my skin. 

“Did I happen to deplete your manhood?” I replied, actually laughing. Who was this creature, that had taken over my body? Was she actually flirting, while slow-dancing, in a wedding, without stepping on his toes?

“The opposite actually. You seemed to strengthen it. Wow, I didn’t know how hard it would be to impress a woman.”

I raised my eyebrow at him, and proceeded to laugh. He laughed as well, telling me, “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

“I’ve never heard a much more smoother, more sarcastic pun.”

“I could be a comedian.” he claimed.

“You know what, you should go for it.”

“Thanks, Chris.”

“Who knows, I might actually come see your show in West End or something.”

“Who knows, I might actually save you a seat on the front row.”

“And who knows, I might actually give you a standing ovation.”

“And I might actually take you out for dinner afterwards.” he replied, something that resembles hope glinting on the edge of his eyes as I shook my head like a fool, giving him one of my ‘are you serious?’ smiles. 

“I’m serious.” he said, as if he was reading my mind again.

We had stopped dancing by now, though the world still seemed to be so far away. But there we were, staring at each other, standing in the middle of the dance floor as the song, ‘Fake Plastic Trees’ by Radiohead is playing in the background and we were surrounded by couples, dancing to the music. It was as if time stopped for the both of us as we both tried to read each other’s minds. 

It wasn’t until a few seconds later, that he finally asked me, “Would you want to…go out sometime?”

“Aren’t we already outside?” I joked, trying to re-break the ice between us and we both laughed for awhile, before I answered him, “Sure, I’d like to.”

“Maybe you should be the comedian.” he suggested and I rolled my eyes, taking his hand as we walk away from the dance floor, towards the garden.


End file.
